Where The Wild Poppies Grow
by Musical Mistress
Summary: Maka Albarn lived a happy life, until the sudden death of her mother, which completely broke her. She is sixteen and is starting to suspect that her mother did not die from natural causes, but was murdered. As she collects evidence and tries to uncover the murderer, will she get side tracked by a pesky bad boy and love? A "who did it" story, complete with romance and wild poppies.


**A/N: Hey people! I know you're wondering why I haven't updated my other story in a while? Why is that?! Well, to put it like this: I wasn't feeling the vibe to update it. Also, I hate writing in first person perspective, it sucks. D: Anyway, I'm gonna go back and rewrite both those chapters that I wrote and will change it to third person perspective. Now, thank you for being such patient little tater tots and for your present: This story! I am currently in the middle of writing chapter one of this story, so yeah, you shall get it soon. I know what you're thinking: CAN THIS WOMAN SHUT UP ALREADY AND CAN SHE LET ME READ THE STORY ALREADY?! I will, dammit, just got one more thing to add:**

**I do not own Soul Eater~**

**Enjoy! *hears applause from background* **

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**Prologue**

"_Look mommy! There are flowers everywhere!"_ a sandy blonde haired child exclaimed. Her wide emerald eyes scamper about, trying to take in as much as she can see. What she can see are the stretching fields of carrot orange and amber yellow California Poppies, thriving in Nevada's late spring climate. The callow child can't help but scamper around the terrain, picking up the flourishing fragile flowers as she passes.

"_Maka, dear, don't go too far,"_ her mother called after her.

"_I won't mama!"_ 5 year old Maka shouts back.

Maka continues to pick up the most radiant of poppies she can get her petite hands around. She wants to present these to her mother and father, to make them smile. Maka parades to where her parents are watching from a distance, satisfied with the bundle she had picked. Maka hides the flowers behind her back, to astound her mama and papa with her flower picking abilities and to delight them with their own little garden in a vase, sitting on a mantle, illuminating the dank, gray room, enlightening it a bit with the flourishing buds.

"_Mama! Papa!"_ The young girl calls out.

Kami and Spirit watch as their loving and beautiful daughter runs toward them,

"_Watcha got there, Princess?"_

"_Nothing!"_ Maka playfully giggled out.

"_Nothing, eh? Well then, can you give your papa a hug?"_

"_Hmm...no!" _Maka laughed out.

"_Why not?"_ He asked.

"_You have to catch me first!"_ Maka sprints away, her small legs not carrying her too far before she realizes that her papa has already caught up to her.

"_Gotcha~" _

Maka lets out a delighted squeal, throwing her free arm around her papa's neck, hugging him tightly.

"_Okay, you got me! For your prize, I'll tell you! I got both you and mama flowers!"_ She holds out the golden poppies to him. Maka's mother catches up to them, just in time to see her daughter holding up the most gorgeous of golden California Poppies she has ever seen.

"_Oh Maka! These are beautiful! You picked them, darling?"_

"_Uh-huh!"_ Maka replies.

She hands her mother the flowers. Kami gradually accepts them, sniffing them, enjoying the mild fragrance the buds give off.

Maka beams. _"I love you mama and papa!"_

Kami and Spirit smile at each other, before enveloping their daughter into a tight embrace. The atmosphere around them enlivened into a dome full of positive emotions, unreal and not felt by the rest of the world.

These emotions rush through young Maka, her tears finally spilling down her cheeks, watering the blooming poppies below, them accepting the refreshing taste of a young girls true tears, filtered with happiness.

"_What's wrong, my little angel?"_ Maka's father asked, worry etched into his voice.

"_I'm just so happy...,"_ Maka croaked out, wiping away her tears, but to no avail, her tears continuing to fall.

"_Aw, Maka, sweetheart,"_ her mother murmurs, trying to comfort her daughter. _"Let's go home. We'll put your lovely flowers into a nice vase, okay?"_

Maka sniffles and nods. She holds onto her father tightly, as they all exit out of the fields of innocent bundles of poppies.

Shaded by the shadows of the trees in the nearby forest, was an onlooker who had witnessed the entire heart-gripping moment. The anonymous being glared at them, his rusty red eyes turning cold, while grinding his teeth. "You will pay, Kami and Spirit Albarn... All of you, will pay..." Anonymous spits out, stalking away, leaving an aura of pure hatred and revenge.

As the day is coming to an end, the exhausted ivory poppies are now retiring for the day. They begin to close up, shutting in everything that they have seen, inside their fragile petite petals, until the next day when they open, new things will be seen by the array of chaste blossoms, which they won't utter a single word to anyone.

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"_We will never forget Kami Albarn, a friend, a daughter, a wife and a mother. The memories that we all shared with her will remain in our hearts..."_

Maka couldn't pay attention to what the eulogist was saying. She doesn't hear anything, nor feel anything, she can only see the most horrifying sight laid in front of her unwavering eyes, the thing she dreaded to not see in her entire existence until she was much more mature and could cope with the sight of her own mother, lying motionless in her death bed, her eyes eternally shut, her peaceful face to never show emotion again, the warmth of her body gone and to never ignite.

A single tear escapes Maka's, staining her porcelain-like skin.

_How did it become this way? Why, God? Why take my mother away from me? It's not fair! _These statements ring inside of her, wanting to be screamed out to the whole world, so that everyone can feel, hear, and see the anguish she has to be put through.

The emptiness that rings through Maka, could only be corked up inside her, not to be felt by anyone else. She would give up everything just to have her mothers warmth around her, to hear her sweet honey-like voice calling after her. She can still remember the time when her mama, papa and herself were surrounded by golden California Poppies. Even thought this had happened 5 months ago, she can never forget this magnificent memory, it will always be freshly preserved in her mind.

Those five months ago, is when it all happened. A week after they had all visited the California Poppies field, Kami had visited the doctors office for a regular check-up. The doctor was a little perplexed about some things. So, she subscribed a few prescription pills for her to take. It was after that check-up, when Maka's mother became terribly ill. Aren't you supposed to get better after you have gone to the doctor? Maka always found herself thinking this.

There were also times that when Maka always thought positive, her young self conquered that her mother was just fine, everyone get's a cold now and then.

_It was just a cold..._ She thought.

She begins to stir away from her thoughts and stares as her mother is now being lowered into the cold, dank, ground, forever to be sealed within the earth.

Maka again feels something warm slide past her cheek. She reaches up to her face and touches the warm substance. She realizes that it's her tears. Knowing that the torrent of tears won't be able to be stopped, she finally let's them fall. The tears fall from her eyes in a heavy flow, like a weak dam has now given way.

Maka then feels flushed hands wrap around her. She looks up tear-eyed at her papa, who is also crying. The small child hugs her father tightly, her tears and wails growing stronger by the minute.

Maka feels her father move forward, to where Kami lays resting. He stops a few inches away from Kami's grave and sets Maka down.

Maka shook herself away from her papa's arms and settled onto the ground. She eyes her mother's grave, which reads:

**KAMI ALBARN**

**XX86-XXO9**

_**~Rest In Peace~**_

Maka continues to stare at the resting place of her mother eerily, until she feels something being placed into her small hands. Her nose fills up with a sweet and mild scent. She looks down at her hands and immediately knows what she is holding. Flowers, not just any, but poppies, blood red poppies.

Maka looks at her papa and sees that a bundle of white poppies in his hand.

_"Papa, why do I get the red ones?"_ She asks.

_"Because, red poppies have a meaning. Red poppies symbolize 'love and remembrance'. Mines symbolize 'peace'."_

Maka feels warmth and comfort coarse through her veins, knowing that these petite flowers hold and convey her feelings. These blossoms speak for her. She sets the flowers down carefully on top of the covered up grave, her papa also sets down his flowers beside hers.

Maka can feel the tears starting to form yet again. She feels a little bit pathetic that shes acting so weak, but she doesn't really care anymore, not caring about her pride and confidence, which took her so long to gain, she doesn't care anymore. She begins to wail loudly, her uncontrollable screams reverberating everywhere, just like her emotions that have wanted to escape for so long. They now have have, and not one single care does she give at all.

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***insert author's ugly sobs here* chapter one shall be put up ASAP~**


End file.
